


fall

by vhenans (orphan_account)



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Episode 5 Spoilers, Episode Tag, M/M, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/vhenans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Vaughn's back at the edge of the bed— he’s smiling again. It’s that soft slow smile Rhys thinks he doesn’t even realize he’s doing, it eclipses whatever thought he had and his words catch because everything feels like it’s catching up all at once—</p>
  <p>Vaughn’s <em>here</em>.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	fall

**Author's Note:**

> so technically i haven't played this game. i watched my qp play it, somehow went "haha what if they kissed" and ended up here in hell. cheers.

By the time they get back to the base Rhys feels ready to drop into the vaguest horizontal space. Vaughn guides him back to his room, his hand steady and warm at Rhys' back. From the other side of the base Fiona shoots him a look— eyebrows raised and mouth tilted up at one side. He has half a mind to flip her off; but he's tired and Vaughn pressed against his side softens him a little.

“Y'know,” he hums sleepily, “I think I'd be happy to sleep right here. Right in front of your door.”

Vaughn laughs a little, the sound soft and a little hoarse. (He'd yelled for Rhys a lot when the vault dumped him and Fiona a few too many miles away from the base.) “We actually have mattresses, dude,” his voice is fond, soft for different reasons than his laugh. Rhys leans further into him and nearly knocks them both off balance. 

“I thought you said you could hold me up.”

Vaughn readjusts himself, touches Rhys’ hip, briefly, light enough that Rhys wonders if he should make a joke. He holds his breath instead. “Not when you're throwing yourself at me,” Vaughn huffs with cranky good-naturedness. He settles his hand on Rhys side and Rhys exhales shakily. It’s supposed to be a laugh.

Vaughn doesn’t say anything, he simply helps Rhys further into the room— it’s sparse, well maintained but lived in. There’s a desk and a small row of lockers pushed to one side, a bed pushed to the other behind a dressing screen made out of thin sheet metal. Vaughn guides him past the sheet metal screen and lowers Rhys slowly at the foot of the bed— Vaughn’s bed. _It’s big enough for two people_ , Rhys thinks faintly. He fists his left hand in the sheets.

He swallows around the question he wants to ask and giggles a little to himself when he says, “I— honestly do not know if I'm that tired or if this bed is actually a little comfortable.”

He catches a glimpse of a smile as Vaughn walks away to set something on the desk. “It's not bad here, actually.”

Rhys leans back, sprawls out on Vaughn's two person-sized bed, bumps his fist against the wall, and huffs out a long breath. “Hey—” he tries to sit back up only to flop back with a quiet grunt.

He's still a little bruised from getting tossed out of the vault. Vaughn's back at the edge of the bed— he’s smiling again. It’s that soft slow smile Rhys thinks he doesn’t even realize he’s doing, it eclipses whatever thought he had and his words catch because everything feels like it’s catching up all at once—

Vaughn’s _here_ , close enough that, if Rhys were so inclined to move, their knees could bump together.

So, instead of trying to find what he was going to say before Vaughn was right here, he breathes out, “Hi.” He’s proud it doesn’t come out strangled because the word feels like it's still caught at the back of his throat.

Vaughn’s smile widens, touches at the corners of his eyes, and Rhys feels warmer than before. “Hi.”

Rhys shifts a little awkwardly, pats the space next to him and waits until Vaughn lays down next to him to try to remember what he was going to say. “Y-you don't need to like. Sleep on the floor.”

Vaughn turns into his side and raises an eyebrow at Rhys; he can already imagine Vaughn asking why _the hell_ he would sleep on the floor.

“Um. I mean— it's your bed. I. Um.” He can already hear the beginnings of the laugh Vaughn's trying to smother. “I— wouldn’t mind sharing. If you don’t— it is your bed I guess you could kick me out— but I.” He pauses, shifts a little. He curls his fingers into his palms and Vaughn goes quiet. “I’d prefer sharing.”

“That was kind of the intention,” there's a trace of a laugh in Vaughn's voice, a warmth Rhys had missed, but he’s serious when he speaks. “I shoulda said something, man, but I did sorta. Intend to just let you sleep here. With me. If you didn’t mind.” Vaughn laughs a little again. “Didn’t really think you’d beat me to asking about it.”

“Good,” Rhys blurts. His face heats with color when Vaughn snorts.

He exhales a little before he rolls onto his side to settle the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. Vaughn’s eyes are half-closed when Rhys looks at him, heavy with sleep, subtle lines crinkle along the edges— it takes Rhys a moment to realize Vaughn hasn’t stopped smiling.

“You know,” Vaughn says sleepily, “I have stuff I want us to talk about— not bad,” the words are added quickly despite the lazy lull between them. Rhys exhales a little sharply, thankful for the clarification. “But I’m like. Really tired.”

“Yeah,” Rhys says around a yawn. He can feel the weight of the day easing back into his limbs. He closes his eyes, listens to Vaughn’s breathing, and nods. “Tomorrow,” he murmurs absently. He opens his eyes one more time— smiles sleepily when he sees Vaughn looking back at him— and they fall quiet, sharing the silence as easily as they used to. Rhys smiles and closes his eyes.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Vaughn's breathing is even, relaxed, when Rhys wakes up, eyes wide and fingers of his right hand clenching. He breathes, takes in his dark surroundings— the desk, the crooked row of lockers, the dressing screen made of sheet metal, and Vaughn sleeping next to him. He’s close enough that Rhys barely has to move his hand to tap his fingers against his shoulder.

He touches Vaughn’s cheek, and whispers the other man’s name. Vaughn sighs, murmurs something, voice low and sleepy, and turns his cheek into Rhys' hand.

"It's still a little early, isn't it?" his voice is rough, a little muffled around the edges. Rhys feels a broken breath of a giggle stick at the back of his throat.

He can't remember why he wanted to wake Vaughn up— what he wanted to ask.

"Rhys?" Vaughn keeps his voice quiet, doesn't move to sit up, just watches. His eyes look a little unfocused, hazy and soft from sleep, and there's pillow lines pressed into the cheek Rhys doesn't have his palm curled against.

"I'm okay," he says after a long moment goes by. Vaughn's shoulders sag and his expression goes loose. He shuts his eyes and the smile comes back, wry and a little crooked this time. "Just a bad dream," he rubs the pad of his thumb along Vaughn's cheekbone, watches as the wry smile ebbs back to fond.

"You could've woke me up," Vaughn tells him softly. "I don't mind keeping you company at ass o'clock."

“I did,” Rhys says back. “I just woke up.”

Vaughn opens his eyes and looks at him; Rhys isn’t sure what he’s thinking— a part of him almost doesn’t want to know. “Good,” the other man finally murmurs. “Can’t have my best bud having nightmares.”

He runs a hand through Rhys' hair, smiles indulgently at the appreciative noise Rhys makes and that warm flush is back. Rhys can feel his heart in his throat.

“Can—” Rhys’ voice breaks before he can voice the thought. He draws his hand back to rub his palm along the back of his neck. “Um.” Vaughn waits, one eyebrow already beginning to raise and Rhys exhales shakily. “Can. I— kinda want you to kiss me. I mean. It’s not really a new thing.”

Vaughn's warm, steady, when he says, “I kinda want you to kiss me too.” Rhys makes a strangled noise. “Also not a new thing.”

“Oh,” Rhys breathes. He looks down and feels, quite suddenly, afraid that he's going to wake up again.

Vaughn touches the edge of Rhys' jaw gently, hums a little when Rhys meets his eyes. “Maybe this should wait a little bit?” he asks, all soft eyes and quiet understanding and Rhys can feel everything he’s felt for Vaughn crashing into him at once.

He doesn’t know what to say because, maybe, he should start with how he knew, even when they were younger, he wanted Vaughn to be there with him wherever _there_ was. Or maybe he should start with something sooner like how he realized when he saw Vaughn alive that he couldn’t begin to describe the feeling that had stunned him into silence. He wants to say that he thinks he should have maybe kissed Vaughn then or maybe after the fight before he and Fiona got thrown out of that vault ass first and bruised a few ribs.

But there’s _too much_ to say in the wake of a nightmare and a half-asleep confession.

“Yeah,” he chokes out finally. The weight of anticipation feels heavy enough to crush him, but Vaughn's warmth, the steadiness of his hand that he raises to cup Rhys' jaw makes it a little easier to bear. He exhales slowly, watches Vaughn from half-closed eyes. “You don't mind?”

Vaughn presses their foreheads together, swipes a calloused thumb along Rhys’ jaw, touches his chin and looks into Rhys' eyes. There's no hesitation in his gaze, no disappointment. Rhys can hear the smile around Vaughn’s words when he says, soft enough to make Rhys' stomach drop, “Take as long as you need.”

Vaughn presses his lips to Rhys’ forehead and wraps his arms around him. They fall asleep together, again, this time holding onto each other as tightly as they had when they’d found each other. He can feel Vaughn’s breath against his collarbone, and Rhys swears he’s finally home.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Vaughn's awake before him this time— he's got this far away look on his face as he plays with the ends of Rhys’ hair. Rhys groans, closes his eyes again when Vaughn focuses back on him.

He wonders if he'll see the whole world in Vaughn's eyes again and if the other man will give him that same soft, sweet look he gave Rhys last night. The same look he had always saved for only Rhys when everything was quiet around them and they were the only two that really mattered.

“You're already thinking way too hard,” Vaughn whispers. He tugs on Rhys’ hair a little, grins at the affronted yelp Rhys makes. “How'd you sleep?”

Rhys smiles a little, puts a hand on Vaughn's side and feels the quiet stutter in his breath. “Better. I. I am really glad you're here.” He meets Vaughn's eyes a little awkwardly, feels his throat trying to close around the words. “Never’s the same without you, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Vaughn’s voice is so honest and so heartfelt Rhys has to look away. When he looks back at the other man with wide eyes, he’s sharply aware of the air filling up his lungs. “I missed you a lot.”

Rhys moves forward, slowly, looks at Vaughn from under his eyelashes, not entirely sure what to say in the silence because everything doesn’t feel… enough. He feels Vaughn’s fingers in his hair again and groans at the steadiness of his touch. Vaughn’s eyes lower to Rhys’ lips and the world narrows, slows down, Rhys feels his heart lodge in his throat.

“I missed you too,” he finally breathes out, cups Vaughn’s face with his left hand. “I. Still really want you to kiss me.”

Vaughn does. He kisses the tip of Rhys’ chin, the corner of his mouth, and smiles when he presses their lips together, soft and chaste, and Rhys laughs a little breathlessly, relieved that this is finally happening. Vaughn doesn’t push him more than that and waits patiently while they breathe together.

“Like that?” Vaughn mumbles, voice a little teasing.

Rhys exhales and closes his eyes because he knows he’ll see that expectation in Vaughn's eyes, that sweetness that still makes his chest ache and his stomach twist. “Let's do it again,” he whispers, words soft and a little embarrassed.

Vaughn smiles, curls his hand along the back of Rhys’ neck. He rubs his thumb along the edge of his jaw and, this time, when he moves forward Rhys meets him halfway.

Their noses bump and Vaughn laughs and it takes just a second for Vaughn to correct it. He tilts Rhys’ head with a gentle hand and kisses him so slow and sweet that Rhys sighs, melts into his touch. He feels content and flushed warm under Vaughn's steady hands.

Rhys loves him. He doesn't so much realize it as rediscover the feeling when they pull away to breathe.

He feels warm in the early morning chill, leans into Vaughn's hands when he starts playing with Rhys’ hair again. “You,” Rhys says quietly, drawing out the word and marvelling at Vaughn’s warmth, the careful way he combs his fingers through Rhys’ hair, “are my favorite person in the universe.” He tries to keep his words sincere and solemn— or, at least as solemn as a person with bedhead can manage.

Vaughn's eyes go soft and he pulls him close again, nuzzles his face against Rhys’ chest and laughs. “Yeah,” he says after a moment, his hands gentle where they rest on Rhys’ shoulders and eyes warm, “you're my favorite too.”

**Author's Note:**

> cross posted to my [tumblr](http://arohawke.tumblr.com/tagged/mine*). also feel free to hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/prestongarveys) if you wanna talk


End file.
